


Postcards from the Edge of Sanity

by Katzedecimal



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Angst, Games, Gen, Humour, Post Reichenbach, letters never sent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Barts, Sherlock is bored and craving and desperately in need of distractions.  Molly's idea of a solution works just a little too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joudama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joudama/gifts).



> Pure crack spawned by a conversation between myself and Joudama. Spoilers. Pure spoilers. Spoilers spoilers spoilers.

Dear John, 

Camping on Molly's couch for a day or three before following a lead to Athens. Not looking forward to that, I really can't stand ouzo. Not sure what Molly was expecting of a houseguest but pretty sure I'm not it. For one thing, she doesn't like the violin. Since I can't have mine, have been playing violin music on her stereo, found the speakers to be distorting so took them apart to repair them. Apparently this was a bit not good, as you would say. Can't understand why, but then you would have heard the distortion and it would have set your teeth on edge as well so you probably would have torn into them before I did. Apparently telling her this was a bit not good as well. 

Couch isn't nearly as comfortable as ours and I have to share it with Toby, Molly's cat. Apparently I get on too well with Toby. Apparently this is also a bit not good. Really don't understand why. Toby sheds on my clothes and kneads my flesh with needles plus his purring is distracting and he keeps butting his head under my chin. Impulse to scratch his cheeks is difficult to suppress, however, also impulse to stroke the little smooth hairs on his nose and between his eyes. Put succumbing to impulses down to being absolutely BORED.

I'm BORED, John, absolutely BORED BORED BORED BORED **BORED**! Listen to how bored I am, this is how bored I am: I am so bored, I took up Molly's lament that she could not get her new game to run under Ubuntu. That is how bored I am. And that is how I end up making mistakes, John. Being bored is BAD and I end up making mistakes like this one.

When she told me what kind of game it was, I nearly flung the computer from me. I figured it would be something like Sims or Final Fantasy or something equally dreary but no, she told me it's a parody of Japanese dating sim games. Poor Molly, are you that desperate? But she's putting me up for the night and I owe her for a great deal more (including my absence from the sanity that is you, but that's not her fault) so I took up the challenge. It's meant for an older platform and it requires some decidedly unusual software. Eventually got it running under WINE and gave it a trial run, intending on a quick play-through just to make sure it was working. **That** was the mistake. 

It is a dating sim game where you, the human protagonist, date pigeons. Dear Molly, are you so desperate that you're dabbling in zoophilia? Beginning to wonder who's really the freak, here. Then I remembered, _parody_ of dating sim games. Zoophilia in parodies is alright, apparently. Personally I think it's a bit not good, but am out-voted. Just for chuckles, I named the main character after Sally Donovan and sent her off to high school to date pigeons. The school's doctor appears to be the local dealer as well and offered to experiment on me. Might have met my own avatar?

It appears there is a serial killer in this pigeon dating sim game. John, there is a **serial killer** in the pigeon dating sim game. This is a fluffy sim game about dating pigeons and there is a serial killer. Asked Molly if she knew about this, she smiled and nodded. Asked if there was a point to this, she said she thought I might find it amusing. There are hints that the serial killer might be engaging in cannibalism. Damn! She got me. I have to see how this plays out.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear John,

Have met the pigeon serial killer, it's the school's doctor. Have decided to call him Moriarty. I see on the Internet he is known as Fat Bird - might have to change his name to Mycroft. Also my bird best friend appears to have a fondness for dressing up as a maid. I might be regretting naming him after you. 

Oh....

Oh my god, John. Remember I said there were hints that the serial killer was engaging in cannibalism? My protagonist just received a package containing a roast chicken AND SHE ATE IT! After hearing all the rumours, she **ate** the damned chicken! And I named her after Donovan. I'm still undecided about whether I should regret that or not. 

Definitely calling Fat Bird after Moriarty. He is _not_ my avatar. Pretty sure I don't have an avatar in this game (Molly claims otherwise.) Oh nice, he's offering to keep my head in a jar! Oh, and "examine my insides most... intimately." I interpret this as "rape my intestines." Apparently the Internet agrees with me. Pretty sure **that's** a bit not good, wouldn't you say, John? And Sally seems to have forgotten that she has opposable thumbs and could totally take this pigeon. Oh hang on, apparently the pigeon has hands (and therefore, presumably, opposable thumbs as well.) I believe the term "Wait, what?" applies here. 

HE KILLED ME! Hang on, that's the end of the game? I date pigeons, I eat the medical student, and Moriarty kills me. Dammit, that's twice he's done that. Plus he has completely ruined Father Christmas with his disturbing "ho ho ho" signature line. 

Well, that was certainly... interesting, for lack of a better word. Off to Athens now.   
\-- SH


	3. Chapter 3

Dear John, 

Molly said the full version of the pigeon game was even weirder than the demo. She laughed when I told her I'd called the serial killer after Moriarty, and said even Moriarty wasn't as weirdly horrible as Fat Bird. What? ...so I loaded the stupid game onto my computer. This is what Moriarty has done to me, John. He took away my life, I am without you, and I am playing pigeon dating sim games. It's either that or take cocaine. What's really scary is, it's working. 

Decided not to rename the protagonist character this time, after the last run. I've no love lost for Donovan but there are some fates that nobody should ever suffer, and ending up with your head in a jar while a fat pigeon rapes your intestines is one of them. Playing a different route this time, hopefully Hiyoko will survive it (Hiyoko is the default name of the protagonist, the human girl cleverly disguised as a bird.)

There is political intrigue in the pigeon dating sim game. Yes indeed. First a serial killer, now it's warring political factions squabbling over whether to exterminate the remaining humans (i.e: me) or learn to live in relative harmony. And the medical student whom I chowed down on during my last playthrough is an agent for the 'live in harmony' faction, while Moriarty is an agent of the 'kill 'em all' faction. Apparently the school is owned by the 'kill 'em all' faction and is actually a secret experimental institute where Moriarty was developing anti-human bio-weapons from his experiments. John, it's an all-pigeons school where I'm the only human (disguised as a bird), and Moriarty has been roasting his fellow pigeons to serve up at the school cafeteria. I think even Anderson could spot the flaw in the logic here. This was when I decided that the game is better than cocaine. 

Oh, secret kill-em-all agents have apparently decided that I have failed to display sufficient intimacy with the birds and have now doomed all that remains of humanity. Look, birds are not my area, okay?? I am certain that it is more than a bit not good to nuke my entire species because I didn't date any pigeons in this pigeon dating game. They nuked me, they nuked my species, and then they went for coffee. 

If I end up in an asylum babbling about pigeons, please blame Molly. 

Miss you. You're not insane. Or a pigeon.   
\-- SH


	4. Chapter 4

[10:29 Michel Delacroix: I have information for you.]

[06:30 L. Sigerson: Can't talk; dating pigeons.]

[10:34 Michel Delacroix: I honestly don't know how to respond to that.]


	5. Chapter 5

Dear John, 

Tijuana was a waste of time. New leads are pointing to Libya. I don't want to go to Libya, John. I wish I could go home. I wish I could go back to 221b and have tea with you and play my violin and talk to my skull. Instead, I'm going to Libya and I'm dating pigeons again. This is my life now. 

Met a scooter-riding sparrow who rides at the pace of a snail. Named her after Molly. This turned out to be a good idea. Hiyoko (who has opposable thumbs and solid bones) was about to get beaten by a pack of punk pigeons (who have hollow bones and Mohican haircuts) and Molly just kicked their tailfeathers across the horizon. Go, Molly! "Always be prepared," says Molly, "Speak softly and drive a Sherman tank." As her scooter looks nothing like a Sherman tank, I will presume that it's a Transformer. It would not be out of reach for this game. Molly's scooter is pink and has "Blaster" written on it. 

Despite Hiyoko declaring herself to be in love with Molly, this does not appear to be a viable dating route in this game. I finally find somebirdie who won't kill me and put my head in a jar, and I'm not allowed to date her. Now the remainder of humanity is doomed to be nuked by the Hawk party, because they are homophobic jerks or something. No that wasn't a typo up there, the game really does spell it as "somebirdie." 

Or perhaps it's because Molly's on the rebound and doesn't wish to rush into another relationship? We meet Molly's ex, who used to lead the biker gang that Molly is part of. Yes, Molly and her pink scooter are apparently part of the Hell's Birdies. Molly tells her ex that their gang would have followed him to the ends of the earth and gotten there without a single traffic violation. Apparently the game has broken the borders of believability too much even for Hiyoko, who has just exclaimed "Since when do biker gangs obey traffic laws?" Good for you, Hiyoko, good for you. 

Unfortunately, the entire human race is now doomed to be nuked because Molly has just agreed to marry her ex-boyfriend, leaving me weeping in the dust. Thanks a lot, Molly. I should have called you Donovan instead.

Hang on, Hiyoko just stopped the credits and smashed through the fourth wall to wrest back control of the story. I have no idea. Girl, do you **want** to die horribly with your head in a jar? Maybe she's tripping and just went lucid? Why am I trying to make sense of this game? John, this is what I've been reduced to: I'm trying to make sense of an insane pigeon dating sim game. This is what being bored does to me, John! Remember that! - this all started because I was bored! It only ends in tears, John. Tears and pigeons. 

Apparently I do want to die horribly with my head in a jar because I just walked into Moriarty's office again. And there are feathers flying all over the place. AUGH! Oh, it's okay, pigeon-John tells me he's just moulting. In Moriarty's office. John, while normally I wouldn't criticise, I think it's time to do something about this danger addiction of yours. Speaking of which, I am asked to cover the reception desk at the school festival and I reply "I shall mete out directions like an oni of old, cleaver in hand, seated atop a throne made of the skulls of my foes." .... Definitely tripping.


	6. Chapter 6

Dear John,

I told Molly that the entire human race was doomed to nuclear annihilation because she chose to marry her ex and ride off into the sunset on her pink scooter. Apparently that was a bit not good. How was I to know she was drinking tea at the time? I was on the other side of the planet! 

Montevideo was terrible at this time of year. I'd rather be in London. I'd rather be at home, playing my violin and listening to you complain about my experiments. Instead I'm in Edinburgh on a 4-hour stopover, I can't even text you, and I'm playing this ridiculously stupid game that makes no sense whatsoever and is more addictive than cocaine. John, I can't stop playing this game!

Here are my choices: Conquor the world by force (too much effort), rule the world from the shadows (Mycroft has that covered), become a famous artist (no more fame, thanks) or the mad love of a fallen angel (what?) That sounds like something I'll regret. Sounds like it could be dangerous. So I renamed my protagonist after you, John. If this ends up with your head in a jar, I shall be deeply sorry. 

I think I've just met my fallen angel. He is a bleeding-heart dove, he smashes through windows, chatters at me in word salad and his name is Anghel -- the evidence leads me to conclude that this is him. He calls me Eidel Blau and says things like "The red eye of the demon led me here. You summoned me once more, Apostle of the Blue Sky?" Friend, I don't know what you're tripping on, but if you're selling, I'm buying. Don't look at me like that, John. I'm playing a pigeon dating game.

Mad Angel friend has a death wish and is determined to take on Moriarty. Also, evidence suggests that he is the missing student who's ID the protagonist picks up early in the game. If so, then he probably narrowly avoided being horribly murdered and cannibalised in the school cafeteria, which is probably why he's a little addled.


	7. Chapter 7

[17:13 James Watherwax: Your contact has arranged to meet with you at 10:00 p.m. local time tomorrow.]

[07:14 Colin MacIntyre: The Crimson Breast opens and rains gratitude upon the pyramids of Judecca! The Angel of Fire and Ice shall greet the Apostle of the Blue Sky at the appointed place, Eidel Blau!]

[17:17 James Watherwax: Have you relapsed? Are you doing Class-As again?]

[07:18 Colin MacIntyre: Don't need drugs, got pigeons.]


	8. Chapter 8

Dear John,

It just went weird. I am saying this **now** , after everything else that has happened in this game. Even protagonist-John is saying "...!?" Am wondering if I've somehow absorbed Mad Angel friend's drugs through the keyboard. There's Moriarty and now he's talking like Anghel, calling him "Crimson Angel of Judecca." I have no idea what's going on.

John, the game's just taken the proverbial left turn at Albuquerque. It appears to have become a turn-based RPG, Moriarty's summoned this big cartoon bird with a tree stuck through it and you've somehow turned into a magical-girl RPG heroine. And I did not need the image that just flashed to mind. Even though I know you'll never read these, I'll spare you the description. 

I wish you could see this game. Trippy angel friend and I are magically trouncing Moriarty and his chicken-on-a-stick and it is set to the most fantastic music. I can't stop laughing, John, I really can't. I don't think even the game knows what this game is doing. It is the most astoundingly ridiculous and stupid game ever and I can't stop playing it. 

WE WON!!!! John, we took out Moriarty!!! I was beginning to think it wasn't possible. Look at that, John, this game has frayed me so badly, I'm using multiple exclamation points.


	9. Chapter 9

[06:38 Michel Delacroix: The arrangements have been made. You'll have what you need when you arrive.]

[15:38 Anthony Myers: Will I have a high enough security clearance to avoid entanglements with the police?]

[06:39 Michel Delacroix: It took a few promises but yes, you should be fine.]

[15:40 Anthony Myers: And the passports?]

[06:40 Michel Delacroix: Waiting at the gate. Will you require additional finances?]

[15:41 Anthony Myers: Yes. More importantly, will I end up with my head in a jar while the pigeon who murdered me dies in a hail of bullets?]

[06:43 Michel Delacroix: I'm having trouble believing you're not high.]

[15:44 Anthony Myers: Just tripping on the pigeons.]

[06:45 Michel Delacroix: Why do you keep going on about pigeons?]

[15:46 Anthony Myers: I keep almost naming one of them after you, except I keep eating him. It's really quite disturbing.]


	10. Chapter 10

[02:45 Arthur Curry: What time does your flight arrive?]

[11:46 Jean-Paul Delacroix: _Carve it into your soul!_ 8:15 a.m]

[02:47 Arthur Curry: O...kay?]


	11. Chapter 11

Dear John, 

Moriarty's killed me two more times now. This time he killed me practically right out of the gate. The irony? - I'm playing pigeon-John's route. Yes, apparently dating you gets me killed. Yes I realise that was in terribly bad taste after what happened, but you know what? -- sod it. You're never going to read these, you're never going to see me again, I'll never be able to talk to you again and I'm addicted to this damned game that keeps killing me and putting my head in a jar. Black jokes are all I've got left.

And keeps on playing without me. Now the game's switched over to a number of perspectives, primarily that of pigeon-John. I call best-pigeon-friend John because he reminds me of you (although if you had any crossdressing tendencies, I was unaware of them, so congratulations on hiding them so well.) Pigeon-John is the only one who cares that I've been murdered, dismembered, and my body parts distributed among the class rooms. Pigeon-John doesn't want to evacuate the building and leave my severed head behind. He wants to collect the various pieces of my corpose and give me a decent burial. You're a good pigeon, John. 

And now they're sealed in a giant dome. I don't understand, but I'm dead, so I don't have to. And my body parts have been collected in the lab for Moriarty to conduct the autopsy. What could possibly go wrong? 

Molly says she knows what could possibly go wrong and that very soon I will stop calling Fat Bird Moriarty. This does not bode well. 

...........................

Ohhhhh I understand now. I get it. This happens with every drug from time to time. This must be the pigeon version of a bad trip. That's the only explanation for what's shuffling towards me from down the hall. It'd better be a bad trip, because I think I know what that thing is, John. And I think Molly's right. And if Donovan ever refers to me as a freak again, please sit her down and make her play this route and contemplate the mind of the writer who created it, because even if I took twelve hits of acid, I could never come with anything like _this._ Not an experiment I plan to undertake, by the way. 

Oh nice, more political intrigue. Apparently I was originally some sort of peace offering to the birds and if I died, the entire school would be locked down and handed over to the remaining humans as prisoners. Does this happen before or after the remaining humans are nuked because I failed in orniphilia? I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. At this point, I don't want it to make any sense, because what that scarecrow thing might be makes sense and I don't want that to make sense. Now I'm not making sense. This not my brain on drugs, this is my brain on pigeons.

Speaking of drugs, Trippy Angel guy is back! He has a brief magic RPG battle with Pigeon-John, presumably to show that they're friends. I have no idea. He's looking for demon spores. Pigeon-John definitely has your attraction to danger. He was snooping in Moriarty's office and got himself knocked out. But he's not murdered because Moriarty's out talking with the racist pigeon about how he couldn't possibly have dismembered my very large human body (they're chicken-sized pigeons, remember), put me into boxes and distributed me around the school, because he has an old injury in his right wing. But his left wing is fine because he just tried to kill the racist pigeon but his usually-lunch brother just took the stab. Aaaaand Moriarty built the scarecrow, not surprised. 

Oh this is definitely a bad trip. Only a bad trip can make me turn this emotional. It's okay, I've dealt with bad trips before, I can deal with this. No, no I can't. I can't deal with this, John. Maybe I could deal with this if I were back home in 221b. Maybe I could deal with this if I hadn't lost my name, my life, and everything and everyone in it. Maybe I could deal with it if I could talk to you. Or even just text you. But I can't deal with this now. I'm tearing up over **pigeons** , John, I'm getting weepy over a sodding _pigeon game._ I can't deal with this, John. This is the worst trip ever. After this, no more pigeons. 

Oh. Oh god, John..! _The school is Baskerville!_ We're getting the ghost pigeon's backstory. Did I mention the ghost pigeon? There's a ghost pigeon. He died in a fire and now he's a ghost. He's talking to my soul, which is a green flame. Turns out he was made a carrier for a plague that was wiping out humanity. Every human he met died horribly and he couldn't deal with that, so he self-immolated in an attempt to eradicate the contagion. Care to guess who developed the virus? Trippy angel fellow is back and keeps going on about demon spores. Trippy angel talks in a roundabout manner but he actually does make some sense (unlike everything else in this game); have to wonder if he means the contagion is still viable?

Oh god it **is** Baskerville! Trippy Angel is telling us that the "Midnight Hunter" (aka Labour 9 aka the Scarecrow Thing of Nightmares aka Please Let Me Be Wrong About This One) is a **hound** bred from the Black Void, John! And it must be defeated with holy water. So Pigeon-John does what any sensible John would do in any universe - turns the hosepipe onto the Scarecrow Thing of Nightmares and throws his tazer at it. 

We just found Moriarty's notes about Trippy Angel. Turns out he was turned into a walking drug factory and he has hallucinogenic pheromones. And you thought it was just his cologne. And I paired you off with him... which means that giant chicken-on-a-stick that was almost certainly a hallucination so when you beat Moriarty...! I swear I didn't know, John! This is why you're better off without me, I can't even play a stupid game without getting you in trouble. Now you're going to have PTSD nightmares about pigeons and you won't even know why.

Stupid game, don't go trying to make sense _now!_ Every student was invited to go to Baskerville High School because they have some physical abberation that made Moriarty want to experiment on them. Pidgeon-John says he's always feeling poorly yet he got an invitation. I have a suspicion I know why. 

Moriarty keeps insisting he didn't kill me and his assistant backed that up before Moriarty killed him, so I have a bad suspicion about where this is going, too. I don't want to be right about any of these suspicions, John, I really don't. I'm going to have nightmares tonight, I'm sure. If I'm even able to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

[03:03 Michel Delacroix: You're still awake? Have you slept at all?]

[03:04 L. Sigerson: Can't sleep. Pigeon will get me.]


	13. Chapter 13

Dear John, 

Remember when this was just a fun little pigeon dating sim game? You're right, it was never a fun little pigeon dating sim game.

I was right on all three counts, John. Everything I was hoping to be wrong about, I was right. Pigeon-John **is** the new carrier of the human-killing plague. Pigeon-John **did** cause my death (although he didn't rape my intestines afterwards, because Pigeon-John is a gentleman that way.) 

Remember the Dove party, the one who wanted to live peacefully with the remaining humans? Apparently one of their ideas of "living peacefully" was to put human heads in jars and turn them into cyborgs then use them as slave labour. This was shot down as unethical. You can see where this is going, can't you?

That's right, John. Labour 9 was **me.** And you killed me a second time when you tazered me. And now Moriarty is locking you up and releasing a toxic gas. This is the worst trip ever. 

It just prompted me to save the game, John. It's going to get worse.


	14. Chapter 14

[08:01 James Watherwax: How are you this morning?]

[08:02 L. Sigerson: Terrible. Moriarty killed me, raped my intestines, dismembered me, put my head in a jar then turned me into a robot RealDoll with no free will.]

[08:04 James Watherwax: I'd like you to come with me to the hospital. I'm worried that the fall may have left some internal damage. Or possibly the emotional trauma has had a lasting impact.]

[08:05 L. Sigerson: Neither. It's this stupid game.]

[08:06 James Watherwax: Game? What game?]

[08:07 L. Sigerson: This pigeon sim game that Molly got me hooked on. It's the most insane thing I've ever played. It started off as a parody of dating sim games and has spun off into murder-mystery/zombie-survival on drugs. Literally; one of the characters has hallucingenic pheromones.]

[08:09 James Watherwax: Then what is this about Moriarty?]

[08:10 L. Sigerson: I've been naming the characters after people I know. I named the game's villain after Moriarty because, obvious, really. Didn't rename the hallucinogenic pigeon though, because I don't know anyone who talks in bizarrely florid sentences, has a habit of leaping through windows and across buildings, and causes everyone around them to act like they're on drugs.]

[08:12 James Watherwax: Sounds like somebody I know.]

[08:12 L. Sigerson: What?]

[08:13 James Watherwax: You mean to say that all this time, you've been talking about a game?]

[08:14 L. Sigerson: Of course. What did you think I meant?]


	15. Chapter 15

Dear John, 

This game has completely flipped it. 

Love  
\- SH

No, really, it has. Moriarty just told Pigeon-John that all of this death and destruction and total insanity was for him. Because once upon a time, Pigeon-John wished that everybirdie (yes it's in the game) would just stop fighting and there would be peace. And **just** to cap it off, he tells Pigeon-John that he should be more grateful. I can't stop laughing, John. I will _never_ stop calling this bird Moriarty. Never. 

Now Trippy Angel is attacking with his RPG stats and his trippy battle music, annnnd look! It's the green flame of my soul, come to smash the fourth wall and declare myself as the only berserker character this story needs and to kick Pigeon-John into action! Or maybe I'm a hallucination borne of Trippy Angel's cologne. I don't know anymore! Nothing is real, John, nothing is real! 

And now we break for Moriarty's backstory. There's no fast forward button, John. John, you used to complain about how literal I could be? I got nothing on bird-Moriarty here. **Nothing,** John! Certainly nothing close to this level of creative misinterpretation.


	16. Chapter 16

[15:39 Molly Hooper: I found Jim's grave.]

[15:40 Molly Hooper: I stood there for a while, thinking about what he'd done. How he used me. And what he'd done to you.]

[15:40 Molly Hooper: Then I spat on him and called him a fluffy heretic.]

[15:41 L. Sigerson: Ho ho ho.]


	17. Chapter 17

Dear John, 

Molly is marvellous. I could _almost_ forgive her for getting me hooked on this stupid game. Almost. 

Everything is hating on best friend Pigeon-John. First Moriarty stuffed him full of ghost pigeon's virus-contaminated organs, then he drove ghost pigeon's brother crazy with grief, now ghost pigeon's brother wants to slice Pigeon-John open and retrive what's left of ghost pigeon. This bird is armed, John. I mean that literally, he has hands, so presumably he has arms as well. He is certainly carrying arms in his hands - he shot Moriarty and he's threatening Pigeon-John with a knife. Don't look at me, I stopped expecting this game to make sense a long time ago. Now he's arguing with ghost pigeon and with his own shadow. I shudder to speculate what kind of effect this is having on poor Pigeon-John. Somehow I think he's going to come out of this with a lot more than a psychosomatic limp!

I'm wrong. He's not coming out AT ALL! They've put him in cold storage and left him talking to the ghost of me and that's it, that's the end of it. Which is a pretty accurate reflection of your life right now, isn't it. I wish it could be otherwise, John. It's an accurate reflection of my life as well. I'm a ghost writing letters to a friend who'll never be able to read them, whom I'll never be able to talk to again. Moriarty's (the real one) kill order didn't die with him. His assassins will still shoot you if there's any hint that I'm alive. I want to go home and I can't. I know Mycroft's keeping up the rent in the hopes that one day I'll be able to go home but that looks about as likely as getting out of this damned game with my head intact. If there's one thing I take from this, it is that pigeon orniphilia leads to misery and decapitation.

I've got nothing left now, John. I've lost my name, my home, my life, my best friend and now I've lost the stupid pigeons. That's it. There's nothing else. I'll be hunting down Moriarty's accomplices while going through pigeon withdrawal. I don't expect I'll be merciful. They're threatening my best friend and I'm out of pigeons - go ahead, make my day.

Molly's just texted me and told me there's a sequel. 

DAMMIT!


End file.
